Jungle Trap Mk II
by Starscream
Summary: A page one rewrite of my original fic. MGS3 inspired story. Grey Fox is set into Tselinoyarsk to resuce Dr. Shakoor from Cobra.
1. Chapter 1

Jungle Trap

Bubblegum Crisis is property of AIC/Youmex

Toshimichi Suzuki and Kenichi Sonoda created Bubblegum Crisis

GI Joe is Property of Hasbro and Marvel/Sunbow entertainment all rights reserved.  
Gundam and all related names are property of Bandai and Sunrise

Jungle Trap originally written by Paul Dini

Metal Gear Solid 3 created by Hideo Kojima

Please note: Since this is Metal Gear Solid 3 inspired I will be using camouflage patterns that have fallen out of disuse, this because the Call to Duty was written in the late 90s since I made a reference to the Clinton Administration and MARPAT wasn't introduced until 2001 and I don't want to through the hassle of ret-conning the fic.

Also I'm going to try to make the Commander a little more philosophical and try to distance him from his cartoon interpretation since you don't really know his motivations and he was more or less a generic bad guy who just wants take over the world for no real reason.

Duke waited out on the chopper pad as the Tomahawk touched down on the pad. He watched as a female Lt. in a class A uniform dash across the pad, carrying a briefcase and a carry-on bag, bending forward as the rotors still turned. "Sgt. Hauser," she asked not even bothering to remove her wraparound sunglasses

"Yes, Lt. they call me, Duke."

"Very well," She answered coolly, "I'm to see General Abernathy immediately. And have someone take my luggage to my quarters."

"Of course, anything else?" Duke answered. He felt somewhat put off by the new Lt. who was coming off somewhat cold, even she sounded polite

"Besides taking me to General Abernathy, no."

General Clayton Abernathy, Hawk, sat at his desk filling out paperwork. Mundane, monotonous, dull paperwork. He looked longingly towards his set of golf clubs in the corner of his office. _If it weren't for the paper pushers higher up the chain, I could be enjoying myself on the back nine. _A knock at his door derailed his train of thought. "Enter."

The door open and Duke walked into the office. "General, Lt. Syl…"

"Hello, Sylia," Hawk smiled as he recognized the young Lt.

"Clayton," She answered then she turned to Duke, "That will be all Sgt. Dismissed."

A rueful smile came to the General's face as he noticed the cold attitude from Sylia and Duke keeping some insults of her to himself. "Sylia, I think we may need to take a brush up course on your social skills. Ever since that incident in Cambodia, you refuse to work or play well with others. Except for the occasional poker game at Benning; I have been keeping tabs on you."

"Well, when the Army fucks up, somebody has to get screwed. My number came up."

"I know, Sylia," Clayton sighed, "even though in your mission in the Middle East was a pyrrhic victory, it was still unpleasant."

"Clayton," Sylia began in a firm voice, "Is there a reason you had me transferred from Benning to GI Joe. I doubt it's to make small talk."

"No," He chuckled before clearing his throat, and getting down to business. "Have you heard of Dr. Shakoor?"

"Read about him, Shakoor was a student of Y.T. Minovsky, a Russian defector who taught at Cambridge pioneered what became Minovsky physics. At Benning, I'd a read paper about his ideas of developing something called the Mega Particle Cannon as means of TMD for the Indian military considering the nuclear threat posed by Pakistan. But of course you have rogue nations and rent-a-war outfits who would probably snatch the doctor." Sylia answered, "What's the mission get him out of India before someone snatches him?"

"No, we've already tried. Duke led a squad to get Shakoor and was ambushed by Cobra."

"So, I'm to lead squad to get him back."

"No,"

"Then what am I doing here?" Sylia repeated her initial question and starting to get very annoyed at the situation.

"Intelligence reports that Shakoor is held by Cobra in region of Russia called Tselinoyarsk. You will HALO jump into the area; you have two objectives: one, Rescue Shakoor. Two, assess if Cobra has developed their own Mega Particle Cannon and destroy it."

"Me? In the middle of nowhere Russia. I guess it's better than being sent to some god forsaken rat hole in the Mid East with a few dozen restless natives and their friends with RPGS and AKs out to kill you."

"I chose you for this mission, since you are fluent in Russian and you scored well in survival training; you know how to live off the land. I trust you with this mission. Right now the political situation in Russia is tense."

"I know about the hardliners in the Russian government, some are the remnants of the old Soviet guard, want either a restoration of the cold war or restore Mother Russia to its former glory. I can see why you're sending one person, anything more would give the hardliners an excuse to rise to power and put us and NATO is a very difficult position." Sylia didn't really need to think about; as a soldier she was given an order and she was duty-bound to carry it out. All other thoughts were immaterial even her friendship with Hawk.

Rising to her feet she went for the office door. "I will provide you with my BEL." Opening the door, she stopped and turned to the General, who she did regard as a mentor and a friend. "Clayton, I never had a chance to thank you for being at the tribunal, I knew you couldn't speak on my behalf but I appreciated the moral support as well as coming to Benning when I needed you.

"No thanks are necessary," Hawk said with a fatherly smile on his face. "I did it because I care about you, Sylia."

0400 hours, Grey Fox sat in the cargo area of a C-130 cargo plane quietly smoking a cigarette as final preps were made as she did a final equipment check. She was trained in light infantry tactics so she was traveling light. Her equipment were an M-4 carbine with a SOPMOD kit, a SOCOM with an LAM and suppressor; a survival kit and knife, a rugged pair of night vision/thermal goggles and then finally First Strike Rations to last her three weeks. Anything else will have to be procured onsite. As she smoked her cigarette, she studied the intel maps provided by the CIA, not much information on the area. "Two minutes to drop!" Ripcord called.

Throwing he spent cigarette to the ground and stamping it out under her boot, she pulled on her crash helmet and snapped her oxygen mask in place.

Ripcord approached her doing a final check of her jump gear. "You're good to go Grey Fox!" Ripcord quipped giving a light knock to her helmet. "One minute to drop!" Ripcord hit the button to open the rear cargo door. As the cabin pressure dropped she could feel the -46° Celsius wind-chill blow into the cargo bay; it was nothing new during her training she had to practice HALO jumps in the dead of winter; but one never really gets use to the cold.

Standing at the point of no return, Grey Fox took a minute to take a deep, calming breath; mentally preparing herself for the task ahead of her. Then came the final countdown. She thought back before she left headquarters, she entrusted an envelope to General Hawk it was a letter to her brother in case she didn't come back. Hawk smiled to her 'You'll come back; you're too damn stubborn to give up or die.'

A buzzing and the green light snapped Grey Fox back to reality and she readied herself to jump. Leaning forward allowing gravity to take over, Fox plunged head first to the Earth like a knife at 130 mph. It was an incredible rush as she continued her dive; below her was the vast Siberian wilderness. Spreading her arms and legs, she began to slow her descent as she neared her drop zone. Pulling the ripcord her chute deployed snapping her back as the chute filled with air and floated down to the drop zone.

Crashing through the trees, Fox came to a skidding halt before a sheer cliff. Unhooking the straps to her chute and removing her crash helmet, she took a moment to look out from the cliff; she could understand why Tselinoyarsk means virgin cliffs in Russian it looked unspoiled by humans. Tossing her helmet, mask and oxygen tanks over the cliff, she had to get on mission, there was no time to take in the sights. Nearby to the west of her position there a grove blocked by a fallen tree; she made her way to the grove with her rucksack. Stripping off her jump suit, she tossed it aside for pair of DPM cameo fatigues as well as a pair of 'chocolate chip' pattern fatigues for mountain terrain and similar cameo covers. Going back into her rucksack she pulled out a case containing a mirror and face cameo paint. There was a radio transmitter the size of an iPhone was attached to the strap of her rucksack; she affixed the earpiece to her right ear. Finally she strapped on her holster containing her SOCOM to her right hip while her knife was strapped to her right calf. Then she loaded and equipped her M-4.

Activating her transmitter, Fox tuned it to 140.85. "This is Grey Fox. Can you hear me Hawk?"

"Your signal is 5 x 5, Fox. Your insertion?"

"Without a hitch. Didn't even wake up the neighbors."

"Good, we don't want to even tip off the Russians."

"Even though the Cold War maybe over, I still don't trust the Russians."

"The Russians President and Prime Minister are trying to improve relations with the US and Europe, but there are those in the government and the military with strong ties to the Ultranationalists."

"You think Cobra might be getting support from the Ultranationalists?"

"Possible it might be a quid pro quo arrangement. In any case your orders are to rescue Shakoor and get him back to the United States."

"Understood. I'm going dark and find some intel about the area. I'll report back in a few hours." With that Fox terminated her connection. With her weapon in the shoulder ready position, Grey Fox headed north into the wilderness.

Past the Krasnogorji mountains was the fortress of Grozynj Grad, the Terrible City, built during the 2nd World War as a weapons facility for the Soviet's more ambitious weapons programs after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Grozynj Grad fell into disuse until Cobra took over management with the help from the Ultranationalists. Entering the main wing of the weapons labs, Cobra Commander was pleased to see Dr. Shakoor hard at work building a prototype Mega Particle Cannon. The work however was slower than the Commander would like but some of the components were hard to come by and he had to go through both Extensive Enterprises and MARS industries to acquire them. "How goes your progress, Doctor?"

Proceeding." He flatly answered. He was saddened to see his invention being developed into a weapon of mass destruction. As a Hindu, all life was sacred and he viewed nuclear weapons as an insult to all life. Since most countries of the world only talk about reducing their nuclear stockpiles, he hoped the Mega Particle Cannon could be used as an deterrence. "I would work better without the collar."

"Now, now Doctor," The Commander chuckled, "We can't have you running off now, can we?" The Commander said patting Shakoor on the cheek before giving him a hard back hand. When Shakoor was brought to Groznyj Grad he was fitted with a collar that was a bomb. If he tried to escape or double cross Cobra, the proximity sensor will go off if he tries to reach the outer walls of the fortress, the bomb will explode or either Cobra Commander or Cynthia can remote detonate the collar.

"I designed the Mega Particle Cannon for the sake of peace." Shakoor snapped as he was haggard and sleep deprived forced to work nearly around the clock to complete the prototype.

"Yes, yes, yes. Get off the high horse, Doctor! You'll be right up there with Gatling and Oppenheimer in the holier than thou department. Remember mankind's greatest inventions came from the practice of better killing."

"I am a Hindu. I believe all life is sacred."

"Ah! Religion, the biggest lie ever devised by man. Almost as big a lie as freedom." The Commander spat with derision. "Remember if you displease me, we'll put your belief in reincarnation to test."

"Sir," Cynthia approached the Commander from behind, "I've something to report."

"What is it, Cynthia?" He asked with a pleasant voice as the two walked away while Shakoor conferred with a Techno Viper.

"Long range radar reported a C-130 penetrated Russian airspace via Pakistan two hours ago."

"Hmm," The Commander mused placing his hand to his chin. "What could GI Joe be planning? They're probably well aware of the fact it would take a substantial force to take Grozynj Grad and if they tried that would put the United States in a very bad political position."

"The Ultranationalists would no doubt call it an act of war and rally the Russian people to their banner."

"Very good, Cynthia, I'm pleased at your analysis." The Commander praised his aide. "For now security will remain as is until we have more definite information to go on."

"Yes sir."


	2. Chapter 2

Normally, Grey Fox wasn't afraid of heights but the bridge that spanned the Dolinovodno chasm was a simple rope ad wood plank construction. _I'll have to tread carefully across this bridge. Any sudden movements and I'll be doing a high diving act. _She thought to herself. As she traversed the bridge even with careful steps the bridges rocked sharply and violently. The bridge was old and probably won't be useable for much longer but she had no choice but to press forward there was no other way across. If it wasn't bad enough that she nearly lost her footing a couple of times but the rocking from side to side was making her sick to her stomach. She literately had to fight to keep whatever stomach contents down. Once she made it across, she ran to the tall grass, fell to her knees and heaved out the full contents of her stomach. Rolling onto her backside, Grey Fox reached for her canteen and took a large gulp and swished it around before spitting it out to get the taste of her own vomit out of her mouth. _God that was most unpleasant but then again throwing up will be the least of my worries. I wonder was this…..No! I cannot on dwell on such pointless matters._ Grey Fox chided herself as nearly thought back on a chopper crash she lived through when she was a cadet. At the academy she was diagnosed with a mild case of PTSD and survivor's guilt but it didn't restrict her from duty. She had a tendency to punish herself for having nightmares passing them off as being childish and immature. Getting back on her feet, she continued north. Winding her way north through the pass, she came upon the ruins of an old factory. Walking through the crumbling shell, it could be said the factory has been abandoned for a long time. _Hpmh, wonder if this was part of the Gulag system? _Fox thought to herself slinging her M-4 and drew her SOCOM from its holster as she made her way to a small room northeast in the ruins. Entering, she slowly scanned the room with her handgun at the ready; it was a small room most likely for the manager or any high ranking slob that was misfortunate enough to be sent to this dump. But it also proved to be a bit of a treasure trove of intel as Fox laid her handgun on the desk before reaching a map of the area. The map itself was old, used by the Soviet military during the 60's it laid several waypoints written Russian including a supply base far to the north. Removing her rucksack, she sat down on the bed. As she studied the map, she looked past the supply base there was a compound called Graniny Gorki Lab; which may prove useful in locating Shakoor's whereabouts. Glancing out the window, she felt fatigue catching up with her; there wasn't much chance for Grey Fox to get any sleep prior to the mission. She thought about the opportunity of getting sleep until night fall and travel by night to avoid detection.

Leaning against the wall, she reached into her breast pocket; she pulled out a pack of Capri 120s placing one in her mouth and lit it. An amusing thought crossed her mind of her brother admonishing her for smoking, all the health risks and what not. She usually blew him off seeing that she had no real vices besides smoking and the occasional drink. Her thoughts turned to her brother, her only real living family member. Sighing, she thought about the envelope she entrusted to General Hawk, it contained not only her will but a letter to her brother writing everything she wanted to tell Mackie that she could never say in person. Her thoughts drifted to General Hawk, who she regarded more than a friend but a father figure; she thought back to the fouled up mission in Cambodia, she was surprised that he would drop everything in Washington and come all the way down to Fort Benning when she asked for his help.

Extinguishing her cigarette, she tossed the spent butt onto the ground and stamped it out with her boot. Before closing her eyes, Grey Fox set the alarm on her digital watch to go off in a couple of hours.

"Anything from Intelligence?"

"I haven't heard anything from Commander Katse, since I last spoke to him, sir."

"Hmm," The Commander mumbled pouring himself a cup of coffee before removing his helmet and faceplate. "I suppose Caroline is working close with Katse?"

"And when had either of us disobeyed your orders?"

The Commander smiled at his blond aide. But Cynthia and Caroline were more than his aides, but his bodyguards and at times his enforcers. He actually enjoyed when the two played a variation of good-cop-bad-cop with Caroline being the more ruthless of the two. An amusing memory came to him back on Cobra Island, an officer was shooting his mouth off within earshot of Caroline about the Commander; well that officer hadn't been heard from for six months and listed as deserted. When the Commander inquired about it to Caroline, she flashed a mysterious smile and told him 'when it come to disloyal officers, when I disappear 'em they stay disappeared.'

The Commander began chuckling at that memory. "Just out of curiosity Cynthia, how does Caroline do it?"

Cynthia clicked her tongue and gave her commander a scolding wag of her finger. "Now, now, my dear Cobra Commander; you know a neither magician nor her assistant ever divulges the secret to their tricks."

The Commander roared with laughter that both his aides were putting the fear of whatever god there is into the rank and file of Cobra. "Keep me informed if there is an intruder."

"Yes sir. Sir, you think GI Joe would be stupid enough to send in one person to infiltrate Groznyj Grad?"

"Stupid? Debatable, I can assure you, whoever they sent in will be not your clichéd 80s action hero type; you've seen Commando?"

"Yes and I looked up cliché in the dictionary and it said 'see Commando.' If you want my opinion, sir, it will probably be someone trained in discretionary warfare."

"A most prudent observation and probably correct. We have to prepare for the possibility that some of our patrols might not be checking in. But for now, let's check Shakoor's progress or I might have to send for Caroline to find new ways of motivating him."

Night fell over Tselinoyarsk and the alarm on Fox's watch went off. Taking a moment to stretch, she felt soreness in her lower back remembering she slept in a sitting position with her back against a brick wall. _The life of a Ranger, visiting the vacation spots of the world_. While her thought was a little snarky but she didn't sign up to behind a desk doing paperwork. If it were a choice between paperwork and fieldwork, she would take fieldwork. To her she would be doing something worthwhile.

Opening her rucksack, she took out her night vision/thermal goggles and placed them over her eyes then activated the night vision setting.

Pulling on her rucksack, she grabbed her map. Folding it up she'd stuffed it into her left breast pocket. Exiting the office, Fox headed for the gate northeast of the compound.

"Anything from Grey Fox?" Hawk asked as he entered the comm. room. Hawk set up a rotating schedule with Duke, Flint and himself so no one person is constantly on duty in comm. room.

"No, she should've checked in, sir. It's been over 18 hours. You think…"

"Grey Fox is a resourceful soldier; she'll do whatever is necessary to complete her mission, to survive."

"Begging your pardon, General, but what make you so sure?"

"I have to be," Hawk sighed, "Sylia is a friend of mine. I'm old war buddy of her Uncle's and I took interest in her when was a cadet. She's never told but I suspect she sees me as a father figure."

"The way she carries herself, I didn't think she needed or wanted any help."

"Don't misjudge her, Duke, sometimes she has to be reminded she's only human and that it's not a sign of weakness to ask for help or show emotion."

"Really? It's all about control?"

"Yeah. Once she has settled in, I think she will developed some friendships and show who she really is a decent young woman with a very dry wit."

"Does she play poker too?"

"Just don't get too attached to your pay. Tell Ace he might have some competition at the table."


End file.
